The Warmth of Libraries
by fufulupin
Summary: S4 Willow meets Tara in the library. Sort of fluffy friendship that may turn into more should I get some nice reviews.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. It's very sad, really. I'm so broken up by it that I want to cry.

A/N: Takes place somewhere before Hush, I think. A slightly different take on the meeting of the Willster and Tara that actually is plausible if you were to translate the expressions on Willow's face during the Wicca group scene a bit differently—yeah, never mind. I'm babbling and that usually equals general badness. Just enjoy.

I've always been most comfortable in a library. Even before I met Buffy, back when I was a kid, I would sneak off to where the books lived. Xander never got it; he always rolled his eyes and scuffed his feet on the carpet a lot when I dragged him into the building. I didn't mind too much—still don't, really, even though he hasn't changed in the slightest—because the library is and has always been _my _thing.

I paced through the stacks at UC Sunnydale. I wasn't restless; I enjoy pacing. It helps me clear away the noise that likes to accumulate in my head sometimes.

It was still hard to believe that Oz had left. I had thought for so long—although, really? It hadn't even been three years of my life that I'd been with him—that we would be forever. Then again, I had thought a lot of things would be forever, hadn't I? A part of me had thought high school would never end, that Buffy and Xand and I would just keep going around that campus forever, that Giles would always be the librarian, that Cordelia would always be running her mouth, that Angel would always be lurking in the shadows with some cryptic smile waiting at the edges of his brooding mouth…

If you had asked me a year ago, I would never have expected the Mayor to go all evil and snakey. This was the _Mayor_, for Pete's sake; the man was a germaphobe. Who've thunk he'd go mental and try to eat the entire senior class?

Not the Willster, that was for sure.

Everything was different. Xander was trying his hand at actual work—and wasn't that just a shock in itself? Buffy was busy trying to juggle what seemed like two hundred things at once—all right, so not everything had changed. Buffy's always been juggling things, ever since I've known her. And she's always been good at it, at least on the outside.

Giles was trying to grow used to life as a non-librarian, a life without so many visits from us. I wanted to smile every time I thought of him. Sure, I'd had a bit of a crush on the Watcher when I'd first met him—and how weird was _that_ to think about?—but he'd quickly become more of a surrogate father for all of us. It was comforting, to know that there was at least one adult out there who actually cared what happened to us.

As for me?

I was pacing the library.

The first time I came into this place, a librarian had swooped down on me, throwing out pleasantries and hopeful suggestions. I had smiled kindly back, but when the young woman tried to follow me…well, let's just say I was in a bit of a show-offy mood. She went away after that.

I know libraries. They all smell similar, which is a rare comfort in an ever-changing world, and they've all got the same warmth radiating from the shelves. It's difficult to be cold in a room filled to the breaking point with stories and battles and romances—

I cut myself off there, in front of the romances. Pondering the novels, I ran a finger over their spines and wondered absently if I was really ready for something like one of these just yet. The pain of Oz, though more of a dull ache by this point, still hurt like crazy when I thought about him too much. Was I really prepared to read a four-hundred-page book about my agony?

_No thank you._

Bypassing that particular shelf, I found my body heading for the magick-based books. No spell books, of course, but the library had a small collection of history books with references to witchcraft and all the other things I'd been finding so interesting since senior year.

Traveling a similar path, my thoughts headed toward my Wicca group. It was a waste of time for the most part, I knew, but I couldn't bring myself to stop going. The girls involved may not have been real witches, but they at least played the part—sort of—and that helped the loneliness that had been growing inside. I was beginning to get how Buffy felt, that sense of being the only one like you for miles around. It explained wholeheartedly why she had embraced Faith so well…well, before the darker Slayer turned homicidal on us all.

My fingers found a book on the Salem witch trials that I'd never seen before. Pulling it from it's nestled place between two hardbound novels, I flipped it open and perused the first page.

"Interesting," I murmured, although it wasn't really. Truth be told, I had yet to find a really simulating witchy book in this library. Anytime I wanted to read up on magick, I had to sneak over to Giles' apartment and steal something small to scan while he was busy making tea or something. Giles wasn't overly fond of my interest in the dark arts, probably because of the trouble he himself had gotten into around my age. He couldn't stop me from learning when I was out and about, but while I was in his home he tended to "slyly" move his more intriguing books to a higher, more locked-up shelf. It would've been annoying if it wasn't so endearing.

Something moved nearby and my eyes slipped from the paragraph they had been looking over. Was that another human being in the witchcraft section? What were the odds of that?  
Sure enough, a pair of sapphire eyes were watching me through the space my book had left. I smiled warmly, excited to find someone here with me, even if they were just writing a paper or something.

"Hi there!" I said happily, closing my book and leaning a bit closer. The eyes widened and disappeared from the hole. I frowned.

"Hey, where are you going?"

It took a minute, but a voice finally responded, sounding shaky. "I-I'm s-sorry," it stammered. "I w-wasn't t-trying t-to…"

"Hey, calm down." I peered through the space, trying to get another glimpse of those eyes. "I don't mind. It's nice to find someone else here for once. Are you interested in witchcraft?"

The words just continued to blow out of my mouth before I could rethink any of them. Those blue eyes dropped behind a curtain of long blond hair. _So it's a girl. Cool. _

"Y-yes," she answered. "I mean…yes."

"That's neat," I said cheerfully. "Are you a part of the on-campus Wicca group?"

The head nodded hesitantly. I beamed and reached a hand through the gap.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Willow."

"T-Tara." The girl took my offered hand in her own and squeezed very lightly, as if she was afraid I would break if she held on too tight.

"How come I haven't seen you before?" I asked. As soon as the question was out, I felt terrible; I really _hadn't _seen this girl before, but how could that be possible? I hadn't missed more than two meetings of Wicca group and I had thought I knew who everyone was.

When the girl said nothing in response, I blurted, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean I…I just haven't ever…I mean, maybe I was too distracted or maybe you were sitting behind someone…do you usually sit behind someone?"

I thought I saw the eyes crinkle in a small smile. "N-no. I u-usually sit on t-the floor."

"Oh. The floor is nice. I mean, some civilizations have forsaken chairs entirely for the floor, haven't they?" _Goddess, babble a little more, Will. Way to make new friends._

If my ramblings bothered her, Tara didn't show it. Slowly, hesitantly, she edged out from behind the shelf until we could fully see one another. She was taller than me by a couple of inches, and dressed much more moderately in a long gray skirt and black long-sleeved shirt. She clutched an armful of books to her chest as if they were her last line of defense.

She was very pretty, in a quiet, unassuming way.

"Have you been…" I stopped the rest of the question before it could escape. What I had meant to ask was, "Have you been practicing long?", but odds were she was no more a real witch than the rest of them. It really wouldn't do to scare her off.

On the other hand, I could sense a strange sort of warmth emanating from her. Sort of like the books, only very different. It was similar to the feeling I'd always gotten from Amy Madison, I supposed, only…not.

_Not too confusing_, I thought wryly. _Not too complex at all._

She was standing with her head cocked to the side, clearly waiting for the rest of my question. Thinking fast, I asked, "Have you been part of the group long?" Not quite the thing I wanted to know, but it would have to do.

The girl nodded, a quick bird-like movement. "For a c-couple of m-months now. You?"

"Same," I answered, pleased. "I'm a freshman."

"Me t-too." Was she blushing? It certainly looked like it.

"And you…do you help out a lot with the bake sales and stuff?" Such a dummy question, but it was the best I could come up with. For all her apparent shyness, this girl had the most intense blue eyes and they were burning into me almost thirstily.

She laughed quietly, a gentle sound that surprised and delighted me. She didn't seem like someone who had cause to laugh much.

"N-no. I…I don't f-follow with that sort of s-stuff."

"Oh?" I lifted an eyebrow. "What sort of stuff do you…I mean, do you actually…what I'm trying to ask is, are you a—"  
A bell tolled and the girl's amused expression disappeared instantly.

"I h-have to go," she blurted, clasping the books in her arms more tightly. "I've…I've got a c-class. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I've got one too." I gave her a grin. "Occupational hazard of going to college, I guess."

Her lips lifted in a lopsided little smile, one I instantly loved. It reminded me of Xander's grin, only with a lot less confidence and a lot more innocence.

"But I will see you again?" I asked, uncertain of why the answer was so important to me. "At the group?"

She nodded. "I-I'd like that."

My grin widened. "Hey, maybe you can save me a spot on the floor next to you! I'd love to see the wacky view from below."

Her smile grew shyer and she nodded. "I-I'll be sure to…to save you a spot. Like y-you said."

"Cool." Reaching out on pure instinct, I touched her arm. "I'll see you."

"B-bye," she called after me. I smiled once more over my shoulder, glad to have met this sweet girl. It was refreshing to meet someone so nice and obviously gentle. And suddenly I couldn't wait for the next meeting. That was refreshing too; I'd been growing to dread each time I had to sit with those phonies. Maybe with Tara, I could find entertainment in it again.

And maybe I could find out what it was I had felt radiating from her. That had been puzzling, to be sure, but it was certainly worth looking into.

A/N: Okay, I'm at a crossroads. Part of me wants to continue this, but the other part is content with leaving it a one-shot. So I suppose it's up to you guys. Review and let me know which you think is best and I'll go from there.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still not. Mine, that is. And, yes, I'm still very sad, so I'd rather you didn't rub it in.

A/N: Well, hey. I wasn't really sure about updating when I wrote the first part, but lookee here. Reviews. Aren't they nifty things? It's been a while since I've had any kind of slew of reviews, so it was nice to wake up and find several in my inbox. Thanks, guys, I feel loved again. Ooh, and hey, here's a switch. I feel like doing a Tara-perspective. Hope y'all don't mind.

I couldn't believe my luck. One minute, I was standing in the library—right in the middle of one of the stacks; people would've been upset if there had been any around, I supposed—just minding my own business. That my business happened to have nothing whatsoever to do with class or even with reading didn't make me uneasy, for once; I was content with just standing there.

It's a weird feeling in my life, being content. I've spent so much time running from things—my dad, Donny, every fiber of who I am—that it seems strange to just be standing still at any given moment.

Anyway, I was just standing there, looking at nothing in particular. It was probably a good thing that I was fairly unoccupied, because a face kept floating into my mind, pressing its way toward the front of my consciousness. A girl, with flame-colored hair and bright green eyes and a melt-your-heart smile. Her name was Willow, if I remembered correctly—and I knew I did. Ever since I first saw her, at a meeting of the so-called "Wicca group", I'd had that beautiful face memorized. She was just so…so many things that I wasn't. And that drew me toward her like a helpless moth to flame.

It occurred to me as I stood there, that if she were ever to speak to me, if she were ever to ask me anything at all, I would never be able to refuse her.

Weirdly, that thought didn't make me as nervous as I thought it should have.

I'm not sure how long I was there; all I know is how warm it made me feel. Libraries have always been something of a safe haven for me, especially since my mother's death. When she died…all the safety seemed to fade from my existence unless I was buried in a book.

I was just debating reaching for a book when it hit me. The shift in the air, the tiniest change in the musty aroma that floated around the shelves—and the flash of red that peeked out from behind the tomes. My heart threatened quite suddenly to stop.

_Willow._

I didn't follow her on purpose. Or, at least, my brain didn't. My legs, on the other hand, seemed to have a mind of their very own. Before I knew it, I was sneaking along the opposite side of the shelf, watching her surreptitiously as I held my books tightly to my chest.

Her eyes were fixed on a book. Understandable; she _was_ in a library, was she not?

_Well, _you're _in a library—selfsame one, actually—and you have yet to find yourself something to read. _

"Hi, there."

I jumped about a foot in the air as two emerald eyes met mine through a hole in the row of books. Pulling back, I clutched my things closer to my chest and tried to remember how to breathe.

"Hey, where are you going?" her voice asked, sounding concerned. I bit my lip, thinking over all the combinations of words I could use to response as quickly as I could.

Finally, I managed to spit out a sentence. "I-I'm s-sorry, I w-wasn't t-trying t-to…"

Was she mad? It was hard to tell with an entire shelf between us, but she seemed to be seeking my eyes out with her own, so…that was a good sign, right?

"Hey, calm down." She caught my gaze with mine and I thought I heard the hint of a smile in her voice. "I don't mind. It's nice to find someone else here for once. Are you interested in witchcraft?"

I bowed my head, terrified that anymore eye contact would tear away all of my self-control. _If I jump around this shelf—or, worse, through it—and kiss her, how many states would I have to run through before the pain stopped?_

_Quick, Tara, what was the last question she asked you? Focus, focus—it was about witchcraft, wasn't it? Yes, good, something I know. Except…I probably shouldn't _tell _her that I know so much about magick. No, because that might scare her…except she _has _been in Wicca group an awful lot. Doesn't that mean she's interested in that sort of thing?_

_  
_Finally, I settled on stammering, "Y-yes. I mean…yes." Behind the shelf, I kicked myself in the left ankle.

"That's neat," she replied with another bright smile. "Are you a part of the on-campus Wicca group?"

I nodded, uncertain of what else to do. She gave a happy little bounce, as if there was no better answer out there, then stuck her hand through the gap in the books. I frowned at it.

_What is she…_

"Nice to meet you. I'm Willow."

_Oh! _

Resisting the urge to say, "I know", I answered simply, "T-Tara." Cursing my stammer, I took her fingers gingerly in my own and squeezed very, very gently, convincing myself that she was indeed real.

"How come I haven't seen you before?" she asked suddenly as I released her hand. I flushed, ashamed as the realization of exactly how invisible I'd become hit home. I'd noticed her—hadn't been able to focus on anyone _else_, really—at every single meeting and she'd never even—

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean I…I just haven't ever…I mean, maybe I was too distracted or maybe you were sitting behind someone…do you usually sit behind someone?"

Was she babbling? I'd heard her do that a couple of time, and found it terribly cute.

_No! Not cute! Bad Tara, bad! Don't find anything about her cute, you fool, she doesn't even know you exist!_

_…well, I mean, _now _she does…_

_But don't go there._

I couldn't help a smile, despite the desperate thoughts zooming around my brain. "N-no. I u-usually sit on t-the floor."

"Oh. The floor is nice. I mean, some civilizations have forsaken chairs entirely for the floor, haven't they?" _Yep. Babbling. That really is—_

_Just another feature of just another person who won't remember your name in five minutes_, I reminded myself firmly. _Stop it._

I found myself coming slowly out from behind the shelf—_and don't think there's no irony in the 'coming out' factor, oh no…_ She was blushing a little, apparently annoyed with her own babbling. I clutched my books closer, as if they could somehow save me from the heartache I could already feel coming off of her—

_Wait. Off of her? What's going on here?_

_  
_I've always had a strong sense of empathy, ever since I can remember. Mama used to say it was my special gift, like the magicks were. Dad just said it was another useless part of a useless woman, but Mama always told me not to listen to him. Empathy, she said, was one of the strongest gifts a witch could ever be blessed with. I was meant to do great things, she always said.

It's funny. I wonder what she'd say if she could see me now.

"Have you been…," she began, then froze. I very nearly panicked, assuming automatically that she'd noticed exactly who I was—or, worse, what—and realized that she didn't want to be within thirty feet of me.

_Calm down, Tara. She doesn't know you, remember? She can't possibly hate you._

_Yet._

Forcing myself not to run away, I tilted my head to the side and waited. From the look on her face, she appeared to be struggling with something, although I had no idea what that could be.

"Have you been part of the group long?" she blurted finally. I nodded, weak-kneed with relief. _She's not running away!_

_Yet._

"For a c-couple of m-months now," I answered shakily. "You?"

"Same. I'm a freshman."

_Same page, at least. Not like she's still not completely out of my league, but at least she's not way older or something…not that I thought she was…not that I should be thinking about this…_

"Me t-too," I managed, trying in vain to keep the color out of my cheeks. What was I _doing_? This was the last thing I needed, to fall for this amazingly beautiful, agonizingly out-of-reach woman.

"And you…do you help out a lot with the bake sales and stuff?" she asked after a moment of just watching me. Was she staring? Or was that just the simple intensity with which she normally watched people?

_Don't stare, don't stare, don't stare—damn, Tara, you're going to scare her!_

Wrenching my eyes away from her face, I focused on the question she'd thrown my way. The words clicked in my head and I found myself—surprisingly—laughing out loud.

"N-no. I…I don't f-follow with that sort of s-stuff." _And should I tell her what sort of stuff I _do _follow with? Or will that scare her?_

_  
Well, if your staring didn't freak her out…_

"Oh?" She lifted an eyebrow. "What sort of stuff do you…I mean, do you actually…what I'm trying to ask is, are you a—"

_Is she asking what I hope she's asking?_

The bell cut through her babble and I mentally cursed the timing of everything. Likewise, her expression changed from smiley to upset; I hated seeing that changed, hated seeing her anything less than happy.

_And isn't that just so sweet? Tara, you're hopeless._

"I h-have to go," I blurted, pulling my books closer to myself. "I've…I've got a c-class." _And if I stay here any longer, I'll probably snap. _"I'm sorry," I added as an afterthought.

"No, it's okay. I've got one too." Flashing a heart-breaking grin, she added, "Occupational hazard of going to college, I guess."

I found myself smiling back. She was just so open, despite the hurt I felt coming off of her in small waves. I couldn't help but feel comfortable with her.

"But I will see you again?" she asked suddenly, sounding like the answer I gave might send her day pitching either into the realm of happiness or depression. "At the group?"

"I-I'd like that," I stuttered, nodding to hide the burst of happiness her question had sent off in me.

She grinned more brightly. "Hey, maybe you can save me a spot on the floor next to you! I'd love to see the wacky view from below."

_Did she…just ask me to save her a seat?_

_Don't hop and down, Tara. Don't do a little dance. Don't break into song. Don't do anything. Just smile, nod, agree. Don't screw this up._

"I-I'll be sure to…to save you a spot. Like y-you said."

_Good, Tara, good._

"Cool." Still smiling, she reached out—_what is she doing, what is she_—and touched my arm. It was brief moment, probably born of nothing important, but it left my skin tingling pleasantly. A dorky smile threatened to pull at my lips and I bit it back.

"I'll see you," she said, turning away. I released the death grip my teeth had on my tongue.

"B-bye," I called after her. She glanced back and bestowed upon me one more angel grin. I felt my heart melt.

_She's going to be the death of me_, I thought, practically overcome by the battling bliss and fear in my chest. _She's never going to want to have anything to do with me and it's going to rip me apart…and I don't care. Goddess, I don't care. _

As I walked out of the library, I felt like I was walking on air for the first time in my life. Somewhere, in the very bottom of my stomach, I could still feel the weight of her smile.

Suddenly, the next meeting couldn't come fast enough.

A/N: Finished! Heh, it took me a while…I'm planning on at least two more chapters (and let's hope my writer's block doesn't fall back into place just because I said that), possibly four, depending. All things considered, I like this fic. I think I've managed to set up dividers for the two personalities, which is good. I hate when they blend—and you all really don't care. So I'll shut up and just post this and you can all read it and tell me what you think, 'kay?


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